


when the night is over

by aldhafera



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bodyguard, But it's not super graphic though, Fluff, Horseback Riding, Horses, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Possible Harm to Animals, Mentions of kidnapping, No Blood, Phandom Big Bang 2018, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, not people though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldhafera/pseuds/aldhafera
Summary: Dan is at the best moment in his life: he just won the Olympic Gold for showjumping, his horse is better than ever, and every dream he's ever had since he was a kid is finally coming true -until disaster strikes, and Dan finds himself in need of a bodyguard and emotional support.alternatively: if a horse is kidnapped, would you say it's beenhorsenapped?





	when the night is over

**Author's Note:**

> here are some of the more technical terms used in the fic, explained: 
> 
> **Graphite Nebula:** Yugen's show name. Typically, horses will have two names: their regular name used by the owner and the fancier name for competitions.  
>  **showjumping:** a riding discipline consisting of jumping over a variety of obstacles in the least amount of time possible without knocking poles over or hitting the obstacle itself.  
>  **missing strides:** when jumping, it's important to measure the horse's "steps" or strides, to make sure it has enough space and time to jump properly. Missing strides is not calculating them adequately.  
>  **oxer:** a kind of jumping obstacle consisting of two poles positioned in a cross.

Beating sun, camera flashes. The crowd roars, but he can’t hear them over the steady beat of his own heart and the rush of blood in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins like a drug. He struggles to breathe, panting like he’s just run a marathon, and he kind of has. Over the madness, he hears the radio commentators: 

_ “Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Howell and Graphite Nebula have just made history, making a clear round in 30 seconds, the youngest in history to do so!”  _

Dan shakes his head in disbelief. Yugen whinnies and throws her head back to get Dan’s attention, making him pat her neck, slowly coming back to earth. It all comes rushing at once, like a car crash, intense and unable to be stopped: the crowd, the light, his horse, the commentators -- his victory. 

With a fist in the air, the twenty-six year old lets out a victory yell, still cantering around the arena. Dan reins Yugen in to a trot, and eventually to a walk, still in utter disbelief that his life has changed, that he has made history, that he has  _ won.  _

“Good job, girl,” he murmurs to his horse, and she seems to understand, throwing her head back. 

“Damn, Howell!” the brunette’s trainer says when they get off the arena, enveloping him in a tight hug as soon as he dismounts. “I knew you could do it, I knew it, I knew it!” She holds him with such strength that Dan fears for his ribs, but he still isn’t quite  _ there _ mentally. 

“Thanks, Sarah.” Dan mumbles, grin plastered on his face, a far-off look in his eyes. Suddenly, he’s enveloped in another hug. 

“You’re amazing Dan, absolutely amazing!” Adrian claps him on the back several times, making Dan choke slightly, playing it off as a bout of coughing. 

“Thank you,” Dan smiles, eyes still somewhat lost, as if he’s not yet fully aware of what’s going on around him. Yugen’s being fed carrots as a reward and Dan doesn’t have much time before they call him back to the arena for the award ceremony. 

Dan leans on Yugen, patting her and smoothing out her mane, pressing small kisses to her neck and speaking to her affectionately. “We did it girl.” He kisses the bridge of her nose. “We did it.”  

“Awww!” Sarah shows Dan the photo she took of the two of them, and Dan laughs, asking her to send it to him.  

The sound of the speakers turning on goes off, startling Dan. In the distance, the MC  makes the announcement that the award ceremony is about to start.                

The music begins playing. Dan’s chest tightens. 

As they hang the medal around his neck, his stomach churns and he smiles so wide his teeth ache. He looks back at his friends and family and swears he’s in heaven. 

 

**_+1 month_ **

Dan leans forward in the saddle somewhat abruptly, putting his weight in his heels as Yugen’s hooves leave the ground. He can feel it when her hooves knock the top pole, making his landing almost graceless, all but flopping back into the seat. It’s the fourth time that day. Dan can’t help the sound of frustration that escapes him, cursing himself as he strays from the course to canter around the edge of the fence. 

“Daniel Howell, you’ve won an Olympic gold for showjumping, you’re the best rider in the world, so do me the favour of explaining to me why you’re missing your strides and hitting  _ every  _ fence?” 

Dan reins Yugen into a trot, stopping in front of Sarah. 

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.” Dan throws his hands in the air. He pulls his feet from the stirrups, then dismounts with a heavy sigh. 

“Let’s call it a day then,” Sarah says reluctantly. Dan nods appreciatively, taking Yugen’s reins and walking with her back to the stall. 

Dan has a brilliant idea while brushing Yugen’s mane. He knows Sarah has already left, having heard her Jeep leave the parking lot just a few minutes prior. 

He’s been stressed recently, the harsh reality of being a world champion finally sinking in. Yes, it’s all he could have ever dreamed of, but the constant stress is affecting him immensely, sponsorships and harder training leaving Dan breathless. 

He takes the reins in hand and begins walking out, Yugen behind him. They rarely have the entire stable to themselves, so the concept of being able to ride in the waning sunlight seems spectacular - the perfect way to relieve the tension of the past days, for both of them. 

An odd noise catches their attention, strange footsteps coming from behind the pair. Both horse and rider snap their heads towards the sound, stopping dead in their tracks. One of Yugen’s ears turns towards the source of the noise, but she can’t hear anything else, and Dan can’t see anything either. They keep walking, but with a strange feeling of being observed that they can’t shake off. 

Another few steps. Another sound. This time a chill runs down Dan’s spine, and he can feel Yugen getting nervous beside him as she huffs and whinnies, kicking her feet against the ground. 

Dan quiets her and squints his eyes, but the dim light doesn’t allow him to see much farther than a few metres, and in that moment he curses himself for not bringing his flashlight. Riding at night isn’t the best idea, but he can see the lights from the lampposts surrounding the training ring, and he quickens his pace. 

He never sees them coming. 

As he’s opening the door, he’s suddenly blinded and left unable to breathe, a bag closing over his head as someone wraps their arms around his middle, trying to drag him away. The world goes dark in an instant, the ground giving way beneath his feet. 

He reaches behind himself with one hand, throwing a blind punch. He sinks the nails of his other hand into his attacker’s arm, but he meets thick fabric, so he opts for punching down instead. Dan grunts and yells, hoping someone hears them as Yugen’s frantic whinnying adds to the chaos. He can feel her rearing, stomping her front legs down, the attackers attempting to calm her to no avail. 

Dan manages a hard kick at his attacker’s spleen, a groan of pain from his attacker resounding in his left ear. He goes for the spleen again, harder, and he feels the pressure around his middle loosen. Taking advantage of this, he uses his elbow to strike the man’s arm, then sending another hard kick back, this time hitting soft tissue - the stomach. 

He removes the dark bag from his head, breathing deeply when he does so, and whirls around to try and find Yugen, the entire scene eerily quiet save for the groans of the injured man beside him.  

Whom he can’t hear anymore. 

Pain explodes in Dan’s left temple and he’s brought to his knees, ears ringing and world spinning, everything around him doubling. His attacker sprints beside him, heading in the direction of the parking lot, where he can see a large black van with a trailer attached to it. He tries to make out the license plate, but the poor light and blurry vision make it almost impossible.  

He stands on shaky knees, warmth emanating from the wound on his head. He tries taking a step forward, limbs limp and useless by his side as he drags his feet along the gravel once more. He can make out the sound of an engine starting in the midst of the high-pitched ringing, but when he tries taking a larger step he stumbles, crashing to the ground and crying out in pain when his battered knees hit the floor.  

In a last effort, Dan raises an arm, curls his fingers around air and tries making a sound, but his throat aches and his mouth is dry, so when his vision swims and everything goes black all he manages is a weak whisper of his horse’s name that gets carried away by the wind. 

 

__________

 

Dan blinks, the bright light hurting his eyes. Opening them hurts too - they burn under the close scrutiny of a heat so intense it’s almost comparable to the sun. His throat feels clogged, like it’s full of cotton, cotton that also fills his nasal cavities. And his mouth. 

There are people talking - the ringing in his ears gets duller, and as it does the voices begin sounding clearer.  

“Dan? Are you okay? How are you feeling?” 

That’s his brother. Dan wants to reply, but his throat feels dry and rough and swallowing hurts, so instead he subtly shifts his head from side to side, careful not to make any brisk moves. 

“Can I get you anything?” 

A voice he doesn’t recognise: the nurse, probably. He can’t lift his hand to point to his throat, so instead he mouths out the word water and hopes the man understands. He does. 

Sarah speaks then, leaning over his hospital bed, her bright blue eyes now darker, her frown making her forehead wrinkle. “Do you remember anything?” 

Once there’s water in Dan’s system, his mind is clearer, focus now shifted from the discomfort in his throat. He closes his eyes (it stings) and tries piecing together his most recent memories: bad training day, untacking, cleaning Yugen, the attack, _Yugen -_  

It’s like his body kicks into action, joints groaning in pain when he tries sitting up, knees uncooperative when he attempts to fold them, the sharp pain in his temple returning as his back lifts off the mattress. 

The nurse tries calming him down, gently taking hold of his shoulder and pushing Dan back down onto the bed. “Sir, I need you to calm down, you’re not ready to get up yet.” 

Dan’s first words are croaked out, vocal chords feeling like tattered guitar strings when he tries speaking, hurting his throat even more. “My horse.” His voice is panicked, eyes as wide as he can open them. “I need to see my horse.” 

Nurse Fernández (Dan focuses on his name tag since it’s at eye level and forcing his eyes upwards is considerably painful) shakes his head no, taking Dan’s hand between his own. “Mr. Howell, you’re in Kingston Hospital. You cannot be discharged yet, so you’ll have to wait before you can be let out.” Dan sighs with frustration, but he motions to the man to continue. “You don’t have anything too serious - your knees have suffered some mild trauma and your ribs are bruised. The left side of your head is concussed and has a cut that will leave minimal scarring. Other than that, you’re fine.” 

“When can I ride again?” Dan’s voice is hoarse and shaky.  

“In about two month’s time or so.”  

Dan sighs in relief, eyes closing shut again as he turns his head to the side to look at Sarah. 

“What happened to Yugen?” Sarah looks apprehensive, her mouth opening then closing, as if afraid of letting Dan know the truth. “Please, Sarah. I need to know.” 

She takes his hand between her own, rubbing soothing circles into the back of it. “You were assaulted, and Yugen was -” She hesitates; Dan doesn’t know why. The silence only makes him more anxious. He holds his breath, his heart beats faster. “- stolen. We still don’t know her location.”  

Dan pulls his hand from Sarah’s, breathing getting quicker as his chest gets tighter. The knot in his throat makes breathing more difficult. Tears sting his eyes, making his somewhat blurry vision even worse.

“Do you want to tell the police?” Sarah asks calmly and cautiously. It is to no avail. 

“Of course I want to tell the bloody police!” 

She winces at the use of the swear word and at the harshness of his tone. Dan notices this, sighing deeply. 

“Dan, you have to relax,” Adrian says, leaning over to stroke his arm. “It’s not Sarah’s fault.”  

Dan sinks back into the pillow. “I’d like to be left alone now, please.” He says quietly. Sarah opens her mouth to say something, but Adrian shakes his head curtly, motioning her to go outside. He squeezes Dan’s arm before leaving. Dan is too tired to tell him it hurts. 

He closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, feeling all but at ease. 

 

__________

 

“A  _ what? _ ” 

Dan cannot believe what he’s hearing. 

“A bodyguard, sir. Given the danger of your current situation and the previous kidnapping attempt, as well as your status both in the world of sport and in society, we do believe this is the best method of protection available.” 

Dan shakes his head, sitting in the chair and rubbing his forehead with his hand, sighing deeply. 

“How long will I need to have one for?” Dan asks. 

“As long as it takes to find your horse and ensure your absolute safety.” The policeman tries to be as understanding as possible, but Dan is far from reassured or on board with the idea. 

_ A bodyguard? What for? I’m not a bloody Kardashian for Christ’s sake.  _

“Dan, I think it’s a good idea.” Sarah puts her hand on Dan’s shoulder. “I - I don’t feel like it’s safe for you to be alone out there, what with you living so far away from everyone. You’re isolated, and that makes you an easy target.” 

The policeman shoots Dan a  _ ‘she’s right’ _ look, which only serves to annoy him more. 

“I’m not some sort of celebrity, and I’m not a five-year-old! I can take care of myself.” Dan argues.  

Sarah’s expression changes from one of understanding to one of frustration, light-heartedly hitting Dan over the back of his head. “What do you mean you’re not a celebrity? You’re an Olympic champion for God’s sake! And yeah, you can take care of yourself, but that’s not what a bodyguard is for!” Dan’s expression is unwavering, so she tries a different approach. “Look, it’s only going to be for a while, and it’s for your own good. If anything, do it for me. I would sleep much better knowing you were safe.” 

Dan deliberates internally, weighs out the pros and the cons, and ultimately comes to a decision.  

“Fine, I’ll get a bodyguard - but you don’t mention this to anyone.” Dan squints his eyes and points his index finger at a smiling Sarah, who just nods and pulls him into a hug. 

“You’ll be escorted home, and your bodyguard will meet you there,” the policeman indicates, rising and offering a hand out to Dan, who shakes it with little enthusiasm. 

“Thank you.” Dan says, toneless.  

On the way back, Dan contemplates what he’s just agreed to. A bodyguard is no joke.  _ What if I don’t like them? What if they don’t like  _ me?  _ What if they’re super old and annoyed by young people? What if-  _

“Fuck! _ ”  _

His musings are interrupted by the sharp pain in his knees from being jostled around as the car goes over various speed bumps. 

“‘M sorry, mate.” The driver calls and raises his hand as an apology. Dan hisses  _ ‘It’s fine’  _ while gritting his teeth and leaning his head against the window in a way that indicates that it is definitely not fine. He glares at the driver, who offers an apologetic look. 

Dan’s house is a “country house” off the beaten path. It’s large, though it offers hardly any privacy, as the whole front of it is covered in glass panels that slide open, doubling as both doors and windows. The floating staircase leads to the sizable front yard that ends at the tree line, the dense forest shielding it from the rest of the world. In said front yard lies an inground pool surrounded by decking and connected to the house by the aforementioned stairs. 

The only entry point is a small path that diverges from the main road, meandering through the trees. 

When they pull up at the house, Dan wants nothing more than to storm out of the car and slam the door shut, running home and isolating himself. He attempts this, failing rather miserably as his arms aren’t strong enough yet to properly slam the car door shut, then hobbling over to his house as his crutches don’t really allow for any sort of intense activity. He aids himself with them as he climbs the six stairs that lead to the house, feeling increasingly ridiculous with each step.  

His escort opens the door for him, seeing as it’s already open. 

A man that Dan does not recognise walks up to them from where he was sitting on Dan’s sofa, smiling as he offers a hand for Dan to shake.  

The man is tall, but still somewhat shorter than Dan (a fact that surprises him as much as it makes him suspicious of his bodyguarding capacities, but who knows, he might be an impressive kicker or just great at taekwondo). His hair is black, short at the sides and longer at the top; he’s well-built, evidently fit but not bulky.  

“Hi! I’m Phil Lester, your new bodyguard!” He smiles from ear to ear. His voice is low, but his eyes are bright, all sorts of different colours that take Dan’s breath away momentarily. 

“Dan Howell.” Dan is colder than he expected. He forces a smile, ignoring the pain in his leg. He tries to hide the contempt in his eyes as well, but he has a feeling that he’s failed miserably. 

Dan looks away quickly, and as he does so, sets his eyes on the suitcase and duffel bag by the fireplace. 

“Whose are those?” He asks, both irritated and worried. Where had they come from? 

“Uh…” Phil scratches the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “They’re mine.” 

Dan’s gaze shifts back to Phil, and he quirks an eyebrow. Now he is thoroughly confused. “What?” 

“They didn’t tell you?” Dan shakes his head. “I’m staying here with you for the next two months, and if we haven’t found your horse by then, maybe a little longer.” 

Dan is furious, anger bubbling in his stomach. His leg throbs then, not aiding the situation in the slightest. “ _ Why was I not informed of this? _ ” Phil shrugs. “And why must you stay here?” 

“The kidnapping attempt happened while you were alone, at night, in a relatively secluded area. The police felt that it would be safest if I was around you at all times, since you live in a state of semi-isolation -”

“I do not -”

“- and a future attempt might prove more successful, given that you are injured and the closest house is 30 kilometres away.” 

Dan bites his lip, huffing through his nose.  _ Semi-isolation? Injured? They treat me like I am some sort of crippled hermit living on a mountain.  _

A pause. Phil looks apologetic, although none of this is his fault, and Dan doesn’t want to come off like an arrogant asshole. He did agree to have a bodyguard. 

“Fine.” He sighs, hanging his head in a show of reluctance. “I’ll show you the guest bedrooms, and you can choose the one you like the most.”

In the end, Phil picks the simplest one. It’s blue, with scarcely any decorations save for a wardrobe, a desk under the window and a single bed beside the wall. It does, however, have its own bathroom.  

“I’m not planning on doing anything else today. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.” Dan tells him. Phil nods and offers a weak smile that Dan doesn’t return. 

He hobbles back down the stairs and makes a beeline for the couch, plopping himself down on it and immediately feeling a lot better in the crease he’s all but carved in it. He shuts his eyes, feeling somewhat at peace for the first time in days.  

Until the phone rings. 

“Sarah, if this is not an emergency - ”

“So?” Sarah asks, and Dan can _hear_ the smirk on her face. 

“So? What?” 

Sarah lowers her voice. “Is he cute?” 

Dan pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a very long sigh. “I don’t know, I just met the guy.” 

“Oh.” She has the gall to sound disappointed, which ticks Dan off even more. 

“‘Oh’? _‘Oh’_ was when I found out I have to live with him for two months? And by the way, did you know that? Is that even legal?” Dan starts, heating up.  

Silence on the other side. “...yeah?” 

“Oh. My. God.” Dan stands up, groaning in pain at the sudden pressure on his legs. “Isn’t that illegal? You withheld information from me!” 

“You signed the contract,” Sarah says matter-of-a-fact-ly. 

Dan sits back down. He won’t gain anything from getting upset: she’s right and what’s done is done. 

“You’re terrible.” 

“You love me!” She laughs, and hangs up. Dan chuckles tiredly, shaking his head. 

Now, what to do about his new bodyguard? 

 

——————

 

**_+1 week_ **

Dan wakes up slowly, blinking his eyes open to the soft sunlight. When did he leave the curtains open? 

He turns on his side, checking his phone. Still no signs of Yugen. 

He puts a shirt on and heads downstairs, internally groaning at the sight of his crutches. He doesn’t have to use them anymore, but he does have to return them at some point, although he’d much prefer burning them.  

The smell of eggs in the pan wafts through the air, unfamiliar but incredibly welcome, given that his breakfast usually consists of muesli and fruits. 

In the span of a week they’ve already fallen into a routine of sorts - Phil always wakes up at six am to work out (Dan told him he was crazy and Phil replied that he wouldn’t be of much use otherwise. Dan’s just bitter because he can never find the willpower to do it, even when he’s healthy), then makes them both breakfast. After that, they just lounge around, and if Dan has to go out, Phil will drive (and then follow him wherever he goes). Things seem to be on track - 

Except for the gaping wound in Dan’s heart and the void in his life that cannot be filled. He waits anxiously for news from the police, or Sarah, but everything is quiet and the silent ringing gives him anxiety. 

“Good morning!” Phil calls, chipper as always. How he has this much energy in the mornings, Dan cannot understand.

Dan acknowledges him with a hum and a wave. He is definitely not a morning person. 

“I have to go visit Sarah later, it’s about my rehabilitation and stuff, you know, exercises to get me stronger when I begin riding again and all that,” Dan mentions. He makes them both coffee, one mocha and one latte. Phil needs his chocolate, Dan supposes. 

“Cool, text me her address later.”  

They sit down for breakfast, sip their coffee, and enjoy their peace and quiet. 

Dan asks him questions sometimes - _“Did you go to college?” “How did you end up as a bodyguard?” “What’s your favourite movie?” “Marvel or DC?” -_ and gets asked questions - _“Why do you like horses?” “Is it scary when you jump that high?” “Favourite animal?” “Coolest place you’ve been to?”._

There isn’t much conversation today though, since Sarah is texting him non-stop.  

**_You know I’m almost more excited about meeting him than seeing you?_ **

 

_ Yeah, I figured.  _

_ Why though? It’s not like he’s a strapping Italian man with an accent.  _

_ He’s a British guy with above-average muscles.  _

  ** _But he’s a_** **bodyguard.** ** _There’s something inherently sexy about that._**

 

_ You can have him.  _

**_Thanks babe!_ **

 

—————

 

When they get around to going to her house, Dan kind of looks at Phil’s choice of clothing for longer than is considered normal as he locks the front door. 

“Is there a stain on it?” Phil asks, looking down at his red shirt and inspecting it with worry. 

“What? No.” Dan considers his choice of words very carefully. “It’s just very - bright.” 

“Oh!” Phil laughs. “I like bright colours.” 

“I always had the idea that bodyguards wore all-black for some reason,” Dan says, somewhat confused. 

“I mean, some do.” Phil explains, opening the door of Dan’s car for him. “The really high-profile ones wear suits. I just wear comfortable clothes - as long as they can conceal the weapons and allow me to move freely, it’s cool.” 

“Oh.” 

The rest of the ride is pretty much Phil debunking misconceptions and Dan showing how little he truly knows about Phil’s profession. 

Phil always gets out of the car before Dan does, rushing to open his door for him. Dan is caught between feeling like a movie star and feeling useless

“Hi!” Sarah embraces Dan as soon as she opens the door, beaming at her friend and trainee. Dan hugs her back, murmuring a “Happy to see you too” into her hair. 

Once they separate, she looks over Dan’s shoulder to peer at Phil. 

“Hi, I’m Phil, Dan’s bodyguard,” he says, extending his hand.

“Sarah.” She shakes his hand, then steps back, allowing them both to go in first. Once inside, Sarah leans over to Dan and whispers  _ “Cute,”  _ and he hits her lightly on the shoulder. 

“So, Dan, about the rehabilitation,” she begins, sitting across from Dan and laying down some notebooks on the coffee table. Phil sits at the kitchen island, on his phone but glancing at them and out the window every few minutes. 

“Your injuries weren’t severe, which means there won’t be a whole lot of intense rehabilitation - you should be able to ride in a few weeks. In the meantime, I want you to do some of these exercises and to go to your weekly check-ups.” She then shoots him a menacing look. “No. Skipping.”

Dan nods, staring at the exercise chart in front of him. This isn’t going to be easy. 

“Sarah, how am I going to ride in a few weeks if I have no horse to ride?” 

Sarah frowns, pinching the beige of her nose and exhaling deeply. “Dan…”

“I haven’t heard anything from the police. Or anyone.” Dan’s voice is quiet, almost straining to get the words out - maybe if he doesn’t have to say them, they’re not true. 

“You can’t have this gloomy attitude yet! I’m sure they’re working to do all they can. You just have to be a little patient.” 

Dan looks at Phil, who raises his eyebrow then glances at the car outside. Dan considers this for a moment before shaking his head and directing his attention back towards Sarah.

“I guess you’re right,” he says half-heartedly. 

Sarah claps excitedly, beaming at him. “That’s the spirit!” 

Dan notes how she doesn’t mention him riding a different horse. 

“On to a different subject,” she says then, moving on from the previous subject quickly. “Your  _ [publicist/manager/person that handles social media] _ ” contacted me the other day.” Dan fidgets a bit in his chair. “He says you haven’t been answering his calls or his texts.” 

Dan represses the urge to say  _ Well of course I bloody haven’t.  _ “I’ve been exhausted lately, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” 

Sarah takes a sip of her coffee and raises an eyebrow. “Apparently it is, because the newspapers and equine magazines want information about what happened. People are suspicious since you’ve been on the down low after such a big win.” Dan groans internally, but otherwise says nothing. He already knows what’s coming up. “You need to make a public statement.”  

Dan nods thoughtfully to mask how irritated he actually is.  

“I’ll call Will later.” He says dismissively. 

Sarah doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press the issue either. “Okay then! I think we’re all caught up.” 

“Great,” Dan says, standing up to leave. 

“Can’t you stay for a little while longer?” She sounds disappointed, looking at him with pity in her eyes, trying to convince him. Dan would usually succumb, but today it’s impossible. He’s got too many things on his mind to keep sipping coffee and relaxing. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan says meekly before opening the door and stepping out. Behind him, Phil waves goodbye at Sarah almost apologetically before closing the door behind him. 

“I could help you,” Phil says as he opens the car door for Dan. “With the rehabilitation exercises.”

Dan shakes his head when Phil gets in the car. “How?” 

“Well, I haven’t seen the exercises yet, but I’ve had to recover from injuries similar to yours.”

Dan hums in agreement but doesn’t say anything, staying quiet all the way back home. 

 

——————

 

It happens a few days after that. 

Dan’s groaning on the yoga mat, Phil pushing his knee back against Dan’s chest. 

“Wait! Stop, stop, stop.” Dan pretty much yells, hands coming up into a ‘time out’ position. “I need a break.” 

“But we’ve got four more exercises to go!” Phil insists.

“And we’ve also got the whole day to do them.” Dan says, then begins getting up, wincing when he stands. He non-verbally indicates for Phil to stay where he is as he goes out to get the mail. 

At first, there doesn’t seem to be anything interesting: the last two editions of ‘Your Horse’ magazine, bills, a flyer for the new pizza place down the road - and an envelope with no return address. Dan’s name and address are typed, not handwritten. Odd. 

Dan leaves all other mail on the living room table, then opens the letter, curious. There isn’t a sheet of paper inside; instead, it’s a card. 

 

_ Transfer 250,000 to the bank account on the back by next month. _

_ Or you won’t be able to ride your horse anymore.  _

 

Dan’s world stops. 

There’s a brief moment before someone hits the ground when they’re falling in which they take the deepest breath before getting it all knocked out. Dan’s lungs are full. 

He’s on the floor, on his knees, vision blurry. His head feels like it’s full of cotton, or lead, like there’s liquid coming out of his ears, and he can’t hear or feel anything except for the quick rise and fall of his chest and his rapid breathing. 

Phil. Phil is here, beside him, and he’s speaking, saying  _ something -  _

“Breathe, Dan. Breathe.” 

Dan tries slowing his breathing, focusing on the calm sound of Phil’s voice and the hand on his back, rubbing circles into his shoulder. 

Once he’s breathing normally, all his other senses stop feeling like they’re on overdrive, eyesight and hearing going back to normal. He can taste the salt on his lips and feel the wetness on his cheeks. 

Phil moves so that he’s sitting in front of Dan, but doesn’t say anything. He puts a hand on Dan’s arm and lets him take his time. 

“Thanks.” Dan croaks out. The shame and embarrassment come rushing in now, replacing the anxiety; Phil hardly knows him and he’s already had to see Dan at his lowest. He doesn’t feel like he can look his bodyguard in the eye right now. 

Phil shakes his head, and offers a tiny smile. “What happened?” 

“I -” Dan struggles to remember for a moment. It all comes back to him in pieces, scattered by the panic and mushed together with the overwhelming anxiety. “I got this letter in the mail.” 

Phil looks a bit confused, but he turns around to look for it. 

“Is it the one on the table?” He asks, taking it in hand. Dan makes a small noise of agreement. 

Phil reads over it quickly, turning it around and turning it back, reading over it again. 

“Dan, we have to take this to the police.” Phil says, picking up the envelope, also turning it over a few times. 

Telling someone about this seems like a good idea, until Dan realises the possible consequences and implications. 

“We can’t.” He shakes his head firmly. “We can’t tell anyone, what if they found out I told the police? What if they hurt Yugen? Oh God -” 

Dan begins breathing heavily again, but then Phil is by his side once more, this time holding both his arms. 

“Hey Dan, hey, look at me, that’s it, look at me.” Dan forces his glassy eyes upward, meeting Phil’s icy blue. “Nothing’s going to happen to her because nobody else is going to know. I’ll call the head of police and we’ll meet somewhere safe where we can discuss what’s happened.” 

Dan looks at him with uncertainty. His mind works at a thousand miles per hour, and he can feel the cogs turning in his head. “But what if -”

“I promise, everything will be just fine.” Phil reassures him, and Dan nods, still not entirely convinced but now needing to get his mind off of it before he has another serious panic attack. 

Phil helps Dan stand, then takes him to the bathroom so he can wash his face. Dan avoids looking at Phil’s reflection in the mirror, half-embarrassed and half-ashamed. 

“I think you should take a nap,” Phil says, “To take your mind off things.” 

“Well, I can’t nap now!” Dan argues, drying his face with a towel. 

“Why not?”

“For starters, I have tons of work to do,” Dan says. Phil raises an eyebrow. “And I have to get in contact with Martyn about the press-release-interview thing, and -”

“Excuses!” Phil exclaims. “It’s not like it’s the whole day either, just for a few hours.” 

Dan doesn’t look convinced. 

“Please? I promise it will help.” Phil pleads, a soft smile on his face. 

Dan caves. “Fine. But you better wake me up before lunch!”

“Will do!” Phil salutes, making Dan laugh a bit. 

Phil pretty much tucks Dan in, looking away when he changes into his pajamas but pulling the blankets over him.

“I’m not seven.” Dan chuckles. 

Phil sighs good-naturedly. “Just go to sleep; clear your mind.” 

Dan nods, closing his eyes and listening to Phil walk out of the room. 

_ “I can hear you thinking from here!”  _ Phil calls from the corridor, making Dan swear under his breath and turn over. 

Phil comes back three hours later, not knowing that Dan hasn’t sleep for one. 

 

——————

 

“I’m nervous,” Dan states, biting his thumbnail  as he stares out the car window. 

“Relax,” Phil says, flashing him a smile. Dan knows it’s meant to be reassuring, but it doesn’t help in the slightest. 

Phil pulls up on a dark, narrow street. The ground is wet due to the previous night’s rain. There are two buildings on either side - one is residential, but the other one seems to be some sort of pub, and Dan guesses that it’s where they’re headed.  

The pub is dimly light, with old lamps hanging on the exposed brick walls. It seems to be almost completely empty, save for a man in a hat and overcoat that sits in the darkest corner. Phil walks towards the man, who doesn’t even look up when they sit beside him. 

“Where’s the letter?” The mysterious man says. Dan realises he’s the head of police. 

Phil hands it over without saying a word. 

Dan is sure he’s sweating by now. 

When the man hands the letter back to Phil, Dan can’t help but ask, “What do we do now?”

“Nothing.”

_ What?  _

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Dan tries to keep the shock out of his voice. 

The man looks at Phil then back at Dan. “If you give in now, we may never know who the culprits are, and they might not even give you your horse back. The more pressure we put on them, the sloppier they’ll get, and the easier it will be to track them down.” 

Dan digests this slowly. He understands that point of view, and is about to accept it, but his heart is faster than his mind. “What if they hurt her?”

“It’s unlikely. If they hurt her, and you find out they have, you’ll be less likely to give them your money.” Dan is about to retaliate, so he continues. “ _ You _ would be more likely to, but  _ they _ don’t know that.” 

Dan isn’t convinced - not fully, anyway. He wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans,  worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Dan, wait -” Phil says when Dan stands abruptly, mumbling apologies as he stumbles out of the establishment in a hurry. 

The cold bites at his skin. Dan sighs as he leans against the car, huffing out a breath. His eyes feel wet and glassy, and he’d fan his hands to stop the tears but he can’t be bothered. 

“Dan, what’s going on?”

Dan would normally whip around at the sound of his name, but right now it feels like every sound is getting to him through layers of cotton. 

Phil stands in front of him with a concerned expression on his face, eyebrows drawn together, clear blue eyes wide, and lips parted. 

“Are you alright?”

Dan looks up and shakes his head, avoiding all eye contact with Phil. He’s stressed and frustrated and downright embarrassed. 

Phil puts a tentative hand on his arm. “I’m going to hug you now, okay?” 

Dan gulps and nods slowly. 

Phil smells like clothes softener and cinnamon shampoo, soothing and familiar. Dan breaks down. He sobs into Phil’s shoulder, not even raising his own arms to hug the other man back, just crying and letting all his feelings roll down his cheeks and onto Phil’s sweater. 

“I want to go home,” Dan whispers, voice small, just as frail as he feels. 

Phil nods and pulls him closer for a second before letting go. 

 

——————

 

“Phil, can you do me a favour?” Dan asks a few days later, walking into the living room. His limp is somewhat less noticeable, but he can go up the stairs on his own without groaning in pain every five steps, and that’s enough of a victory for him. 

“Sure! What’s up?” Phil says, looking up from his laptop. 

“Can you drive me to the stables?” 

Phil quirks an eyebrow. “What?” 

Dan fidgets with his hands. He looks down, shoulders dropping as he sighs. “I miss the horses. Even if they’re not mine.” 

Phil looks at him with a strange expression on his face, but he nods tentatively and stands up. “Sure.” 

Dan catches a glimpse of understanding in Phil’s eyes before the other man turns around. Dan doesn’t know what to think of it. 

 

——

 

Phil insists on staying outside as Dan enters the stable, and Dan just shrugs and agrees. 

He wanders into the stables like he’s never seen them before, with a careful step and hands that run over wood walls and leather bridles. The horses neigh and whinny at him, and he tries to pet each one, rubbing their nose and patting their neck. 

He reaches Yugen’s box. It’s empty. Her name plate is on the front, gold and shiny. Dan runs a thumb over it, leaning over the gate to contemplate the empty space before him. She’s missing, and there’s nothing Dan can do about it, and that makes him feel so  _ useless -  _

He kicks the door in frustration, startling some of the horses. He’s hurt his foot even more, and pain shoots up his bad leg all the way up to his spine. “Fuck!”

“Dan? Dan, are you okay?” 

Dan looks up to see Phil at the doorway, looking confused. “I heard a loud noise and thought you got hurt.” 

Dan shakes his head no. Phil crosses his arms. Dan leans forward on his knees, panting. “I kicked the door.”

“I figured.” Phil smiles, tongue sticking through his teeth. Dan thinks it’s cute.

“Liar.” 

Phil stands a few centimetres away from the doorway, as if there was something preventing him from walking through. 

“Come in,” Dan offers. “I’ll show you the horses and all.” 

Phil takes a step back. “I’d rather not.” 

Dan frowns. “How come?” 

“I don’t - uh - I don’t trust horses.” Phil says with a completely serious face. 

It takes Dan a while to process what the other man has just said. “What?” 

“I don’t trust them.” Phil looks even more serious now. 

Dan shakes his head, shutting his eyes in disbelief. “You don’t  _ trust  _ them? What does that even mean?” 

“You’ve already heard it once.” Phil mumbles, staring at the ground, refusing to look Dan in the eye. 

“I know,” Dan steps closer. Phil looks away awkwardly. “It’s just ridiculous.” 

Phil doesn’t reply, just tightens his lips into a thin line. Dan takes a hold of his arm gently, pulling him forwards. “I didn’t mean that. Come, please. You’ll like them, honest.” 

Phil just huffs a reply of, “Whatever you say,” but he hides the slight smile at the corner of his lips. 

“This is Chestnut,” Dan explains, pointing to the first stall. The mare walks up to the two men, moving her head to try and get them to pet her. Phil is tentative, reaching a hand up to the horse’s nose, so Dan places his first. 

“It’s okay,” Dan murmurs softly. “She won’t bite.” 

Phil gulps. Dan takes his wrist, putting the other man’s palm on her nose and gently moving it up and down, giggling at Phil’s yelp when his hand touches Chestnut. They pet her together. Dan tries to ignore how much he wishes it was his horse. 

Phil is just getting comfortable with a different horse when Dan states that he’s leveled up. 

“What?” Phil asks, confused. 

Dan grins cheekily. “Now you get to feed them!” 

Phil stares at him with a blank look on his face before saying, “Nope,” and turning to leave. Dan grabs him by the sweater and pulls him back, placing two sugar cubes in his hand. 

“It’s easy.” Dan says with a smile. Phil narrows his eyes into slits and mimics his voice as he walks up to the horse, trying to hide how he’s visibly shaking. 

“ _ It’s easy,”  _ Phil says in a ridiculous voice, looking back at Dan as the horse sticks its head out further at the scent of sugar. 

Dan stretches out his hand, palm upward. “Put your hand like this and let him eat out of it.” 

Phil shoots him an uneasy look, but listens to him regardless. When the horse begins eating the sugar, he grimaces, looking at Dan, who’s pulled out his phone and is recording the whole thing. 

“Oh, this is  _ so  _ weird,” Phil states. Dan just laughs and gives him a thumbs up. 

“You’re doing great!”

“I don’t like this one bit.” 

Dan stops recording and keeps his phone. He should post this, he realises. He’s been off social media for a while, stirring up speculation among his fans - he hasn’t done a press-release yet to inform about what’s happened. He isn’t even sure if it’s a good idea. 

He presses  _ Post _ and hopes for the best. 

 

—————

 

**_+2 months_ **

“Should I turn the TV on?” Phil asks, looking up from his book as Dan sits beside him on the couch. 

The press release had been that morning. Dan and Will had written a statement in the previous two days, and sent it out to every news outlet and important equine magazine in the country. The police had said this might put some pressure on the kidnappers, so they went ahead with it. 

 

_ “In a touching statement, Dan Howell informs the nation that his horse, Graphite Nebula, has been stolen, and has been missing for two months. He confirms that he was physically assaulted, and though he’s making a swift recovery, any sign of his horse is yet to be found.  _

 

_ “ ‘We would be deeply grateful for any information you could provide,’, he says. ‘I am deeply worried about her, and nothing would make me happier than to see her returned home safely.’ _

 

_ “This comes as a shock to the sporting world, as a little over a month ago, Howell and Graphite Nebula took the Olympic Gold for individual showjumping…” _

 

Dan switches the TV off. 

“I don’t want to hear about it. It’s been painful enough as is.” Dan doesn’t mean to sound cold, but the process is emotionally harrowing. Although the story has gone viral, Dan isn’t more worried about the general public’s reaction than he is about the kidnappers’ reaction. 

“Okay,” Phil says. He turns towards Dan. 

“Distract me,” Dan asks. “Tell me a joke, play a board game with me, anything that doesn’t imply me being alone with my thoughts.”  

“I think there are cards in the car.” Phil states, standing up. “I’ll teach you my favourite card game. I’ll be right back.” He puts a hand on Dan’s shoulder, and the latter doesn’t know why he feels tingly where Phil’s touched him. 

 

1 minute. 

 

2 minutes. 

 

3 minutes. 

  
  


Phil walks back in slowly, taking tentative steps, as if he doesn’t want to go back in. Dan notes the worried look on his face and a shiver runs through him. 

“Dan, I - there’s this -” Phil stutters out, biting his lip and glancing around nervously, actively avoiding looking Dan in the eyes. 

“What?” Dan asks, already fearing the worst when he sees the white envelope in Phil’s hand. He all but leaps off the couch, walking towards the other man and snatching the envelope from his hand. 

“It’s another one, isn’t it?” Sadness seeps into Dan’s tone, his eyelids drooping as he peers down at the letter in his hand without reading it, shoulders slumping. 

Phil doesn’t reply, merely opening his arms with an understanding look on his face - arms into which Dan steps. He doesn’t cry - his eyes don’t even water. He just rests in Phil’s embrace, letter dropping to the floor. 

“I’m so tired.” Dan mumbles, semi-muffled by Phil’s shirt. “I haven’t hurt anyone. I don’t get it.” 

“These people don’t understand fairness or basic decency. I’m sorry.” Phil tries comforting Dan, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair, fingers combing through the curls. 

“What do we do now? I can’t  _ not  _ do anything, Phil.” Dan says when he pulls away. Phil still has the letter in his hand, which he hands over to Dan. 

“I don’t know, we’ll have to consult with the police -” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Dan pulls out a piece of paper, and out of the envelope falls a clipping of brown hair. 

“No.” 

“Dan, please, wait -” 

“No, no, no, no,  _ no,  _ they’ve - they’ve  _ hurt her  _ Phil, they’ve cut off her hair -” 

“We don’t know that yet! They might have just cut off a bit from her tail or her mane, it doesn’t mean they’ve done anything else to her!” 

Dan glares at him through glassy eyes, his voice strangled because of the knot in his throat. “That’s bullshit and you know it!”

“Dan, please, we can’t jump to conclusions.” Phil tries, but Dan’s already stormed off, stomping up the stairs. Phil runs after him, but when he places a hand on Dan’s arm, he gets shaken off rather forcefully with a bitter, “Leave me alone.” 

Dan slams the door of his room, groaning in frustration. He takes a book on his bedside table and flings it at the wall, denting the paint and folding the pages. He doesn’t care. Rage and sadness fill him completely, and the shout he lets out is proof of it, as he takes a pillow and screams into it over and over again until he stops seeing red and the screams turn to sobs. An overwhelming sense of dread pools low in his stomach, wraps around his throat, makes his hands tremble and his eyes water. 

And there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Phil is downstairs, but Dan just essentially told him to fuck off, and he doesn’t really want to see him now anyway. He’s been spending every second of every day with Phil for a month and he needs space. 

At that moment, his phone begins ringing.

“Hi Dan!” 

“Hello PJ.” 

“It’s been a while since we last hung out. I was wondering if you’d like to go out tonight, I haven’t heard from you in a while.” 

“Uh…” Dan is unsure. He does need a distraction right now, at least until the police decides what they want him to do - but he doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do, much less knowing what Phil is going to say. 

“Are you okay?” PJ asks, interrupting his train of thought. 

“...Not really.” Dan sighs heavily.  

“I’m coming by your house at nine, no excuses, deal?” PJ says, less like a question and more like a statement. 

Dan thinks about it for all of ten seconds before deciding  _ Fuck it, I’m getting drunk.  _

 

_ ——————— _

 

When he walks down the stairs dressed in his party outfit, Phil is still in the living room. 

Dan feels kind of guilty when he sees Phil turn around and stand to look at him, dark circles around his eyes, hair messed up, shoulders hunched. He sees the little bit of drool on one of the pillows, and the askew glasses on his nose, and a small part of him breaks at the realisation. 

“Hey, Phil, look, I’m sorry about earlier -”

“Where are you going?” Phil asks, seemingly sobering up. His eyes look Dan up and down, from the tight black trousers to the form-fitting white shirt to his definitely-not-designer black leather jacket. He’s even put his earring in. 

“Out. With a friend.” Dan replies, somewhat confused. 

Phil frowns, but he snaps out of it soon enough. “Okay, give me a minute to go change -” 

It’s Dan’s turn to frown in confusion. “What?” 

Phil offers a half-smile, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t  _ really  _ think you could go out on your own, right?” 

Dan doesn’t return the smile, however, instead shaking his head incredulously. “No offence Phil, you’re cool and all, but you can’t come.” He sees something glint in Phil’s eyes, something that makes him uneasy, a bit of sadness that Phil shakes away and Dan pretends not to see. “I just need a breather, a moment of _peace,_ a moment away from this house.” The _and you_ goes unsaid, but Phil’s noticed and Dan momentarily feels like punching himself. 

Phil puts on his best serious face, straightening out his hair and glasses, standing in front of Dan with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You can’t go alone, Dan, it’s still dangerous. That was the whole point of hiring me, remember?” 

The words are harsh. Dan tries not to flinch at the cold reminder that Phil isn’t his friend or his roommate, he’s an employee, and not being able to name the feeling curling in his gut terrifies him. But that doesn’t deter him. 

“Phil, my friend’s picking me up in, like, five minutes. Just - don’t you get it?” Dan’s getting stressed. He’s not about to ask Phil for  _ permission  _ though, that’s for sure. 

“I get it, Dan, I do -” Dan gets hopeful, but Phil’s stern demeanor hasn’t changed, and his next words make Dan get even more nervous. “But I can’t let you go.” 

Just as Dan is debating whether to be really blunt or to be as harmless as possible, PJ pulls up outside, flashing the car lights at the house. 

Dan takes his chance when Phil whirls around to see what’s going on outside, dashing past him to the door, opening it and closing it behind him with a slam. He runs to the car, getting in and shouting at PJ to “Go, just go!” as he puts his seatbelt on. 

They see Phil come out of the house, calling Dan’s name. Dan is suddenly overwhelmed by guilt, and he almost wants to tell PJ to stop the car - but by the time he realises what he’s done, his house is already shrinking in the distance, along with the image of Phil waving at them to stop. 

 

——————

 

Hammers. 

There are actual hammers knocking on his skull, each harder than the last. 

The soft sunlight streaming in through the window washes the room in pale grey light, the sound of distant thunder making his ears ring. 

His eyesight is blurry and out of focus. 

When he sits up, his vision swims, the hammers in his head beating down even harder on his head, as if wanting to split his skull open. He groans loudly, his own breath feeling gross in his mouth.

_ I got so drunk last night,  _ Dan realises.  _ Fuck.  _

He rolls over and takes his phone off the nightstand. 

_ 15 missed calls.  _

He saw them last night, he knows, but when he remembers what happened after he actually wants to die. 

 

_ “What the fuck, Phil?”  _

_ Phil gets up from where he was sleeping on the couch. He actually slept on the couch waiting for Dan. How annoying.  _

_ “What?” Phil says, in that caring tone of his, like he actually means it. Yeah, right.  _

_ “Why did you call me so many fucking times? Did you not get the message?” Dan tries walking forward, stumbling over his own feet. Phil is there to catch him before he hits the floor, muttering something like ‘You’re so drunk, oh my God.’ _

 

Another hammer to the brain makes him want to physically remove the organ from his head. 

Dan lies back down - there’s no way he’s going out in this state. 

 

 _“You’re just like - so fucking annoying sometimes.” Dan slurs as he’s being all but dragged up the stairs._  

_ Dan’s just going off at this point, he can’t keep his thoughts in his head anymore. “Why do you have to follow me around everywhere? Just stop calling me, Jesus fucking Christ.”  _

_ Phil pushes the bedroom door open. He sits Dan on the bed, and then proceeds to help him out of his jacket and shirt. He kneels in front of Dan, between his knees. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife when Phil finishes the last button on his shirt. He breathes out audibly, carefully pushing the shirt off Dan’s shoulders.  _

_ Even through the haze of his drunken stupor, Dan can feel the electricity under his skin wherever Phil touches him. Dan shuts up.  _

_ He lies down when Phil asks him if he can take his trousers off, muttering some other thing under his breath. When he’d imagined Phil’s hands on his belt, it hadn’t been like this, half-unconscious and definitely intoxicated.  _

_ Phil makes quick work of his trousers and belt (refusing to look Dan in the eyes as he took them off), proceeding to fold them neatly and set them on a chair. He then helps Dan get under the covers, careful with where he places his hands on Dan’s body.  _

 

Dan cringes really hard at his memory of the event. He remembers what he said to Phil, the terrible, terrible things he doesn’t mean at all and the awful names. He really is the worst person. 

However, there’s a part of him that shivers at the thought of Phil’s hands on his skin, on his belt buckle, the way Phil’s fingers trembled as he removed Dan’s clothes, and he idly wonders if Phil feels the same way.  

Fuck. 

He’s got a crush. 

He’s got a big, fat, stupid crush on his bodyguard, and he definitely isn’t Whitney Houston. 

Phil’s leaving at some point. 

Double fuck. 

 

_ “I’m really lucky,” Dan murmurs as Phil pulls the blanket over him. “I got the hottest bodyguard.”  _

_ Phil leaves the room, closing the door behind himself.  _

 

Oh no. 

Phil definitely heard that. Phil  _ definitely  _ heard him being a drunk idiot, and now he thinks Dan is a major asshole, and that’s not the best thing for your crush  _ (Stop calling him your crush, you’re not twelve)  _ to think of you. 

_ Knock. Knock. Knock.  _

Dan shouts “Come in!”, but as soon as he does, the splitting headache returns. 

“Good morning.” Phil says as he walks in, glass of water and aspirin in hand. He smiles briefly, but the air immediately feels tense.

“Are you feeling better?” Phil asks, handing Dan the water and the pill. Dan sits up to take them, even though the water tastes terrible as he chugs it down. 

“I think my brain is being attacked by power drills, but other than that, I’m mostly better.” Dan replies, setting the cup on the table. He reaches for a pillow, which he holds to cover himself up a bit - ironically.  

“Well, if you need anything else, just let me -” 

“I’m sorry.” Dan interrupts. A flash of hurt passes over Phil’s face, and Dan tries to pretend he didn’t see it, but the change in his eyes and the slight part of his lips tugs at Dan’s heartstrings. “I really am. I didn’t mean anything I said last night, I’m honest. I was so fucking drunk, and I’m sorry for being such a hazard and for insulting you for no reason. It was mean and wrong, and I apologise again. You didn’t - and don’t - deserve my bullshit.”  

Phil was quiet for a while, every passing second making Dan more and more anxious. _This is it, I’ve fucked up for life, what in the absolute_ fuck _Daniel Howell -_  

Phil takes Dan’s hand in his own. He sits beside Dan on the bed, rubbing circles into his hand. “I accept your apology. I get it. I can be very overbearing sometimes, really.” Phil finishes his sentence with a sad laugh that reflects so much self-doubt it makes Dan want to hold him and not let go. But he can’t. So instead, he squeezes Phil’s hand, reassures him that “You aren’t, it’s your job, I’m just a dick,” and hopes it’s enough. 

Probably not. 

 

—————

 

“Dan, this is a terrible id- _ e- _ a!” Phil’s voice trembles as the horse beneath him begins walking. 

“You’re going to love it! Trust me.” Dan says back, laughing at Phil’s expression of absolute despair. 

Two days after the drinking incident, Dan decided he was going to make it up to Phil. The doctor had said he could do some light riding (no jumping though, sadly) and the greatest idea dawned on him. 

And so the morning had started with Dan shoving a pair of black jodhpurs into Phil’s arms, along with an old pair of riding boots, and saying “Meet me at the car in ten minutes.” 

Phil had raised an eyebrow at him, but Dan had only smiled cryptically. Phil had resigned himself to his fate. 

When Phil had come out of the house, Dan swore he’d drooled. The combination of white polo shirt + tight black jodhpurs + knee-high boots was definitely Dan’s favourite so far. He looked straight out of an equestrian magazine. 

“You look…”

“...ridiculous?” Phil had said, opening the car door. 

“Great! You look a lot better than I did when I wore my riding clothes for the first time, trust me.” Dan had replied, laughing at the memory. “I’ll show you the pictures some time - they’re awful.”

Phil had laughed along, though Dan could tell he was tense. He knew Phil wasn’t the biggest fan of horses, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. 

As soon as Dan had suggested the idea, Phil had shaken his head and said “nope" at least twenty times before storming out. Dan had followed after him, tugging on his arm gently. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Dan had murmured softly. “It’s all up to you.” 

Phil had held Dan’s gaze for what felt like forever, finally agreeing with an “Okay  _ fine _ ,” and a roll of his eyes. 

And that’s how they ended up here. Phil is sat on the horse, holding onto the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white, feet definitely in the wrong position as Dan holds the lunge line in one hand. 

“Phil, he’s  _ walking.  _ There’s no slower pace. Just get comfortable for now.” 

Dan doesn’t miss Phil’s panicked  _ “For now?!”,  _ but he chooses to ignore it, laughing devilishly. 

“Heels down, back straight!” Dan admonishes. Phil doesn’t really seem to get it, but he tries, which is what counts. “Phil, if you squeeze your knees, he’s going to go faster.” 

Phil raises a shaky hand to flip Dan off, but the gelding snorts and shakes his neck and Phil must think he’s about to die, hand coming back to grip the reins once more. 

“Jesus,” Dan murmurs. “Phil, you look even paler than usual! He’s just walking for Christ’s sake.” 

“I hate you!” Phil yells back. 

Dan can see Phil trying to concentrate for real, back straightening, heels coming back down, knees loosening somewhat. He widens the distance between his hands, but he still holds onto the reins like a lifeline. 

“You’re doing great, Phil!” Dan praises, smiling at the other man. “Eyes forward!” 

Phil seems to be getting more comfortable, and Dan takes his chance. “Think you’re ready for more?”

Dan doesn’t miss the panicked look on Phil’s face. The bay gelding (Edward) looks bored too, and it seems to understand, whinnying at the mention of going faster. 

“It’s just a trot, Phil. You’ll be fine.” 

Phil agrees with a shaky voice. “Okay -  _ ah!”  _

Edward transitions swiftly into a trot when Dan clicks his tongue, and Phil looks like he’s about to faint. Or vomit. Or both. 

_ “Th-i-s is r - e - ally f-f-FAST!”  _ Phil exclaims, clenching his entire body, leaning forward on the horse. 

“Phil, back straight!” Dan says again, smiling sympathetically. “You have to roll your hips with the horse’s rhythm - rise and fall, up and down!” Dan is laughing at this point, but he does want to teach Phil. 

“How do I do that?” Comes Phil’s shaky voice as he bounces in the saddle, jaw clenched tight. 

“Put your weight in your feet, forget you’re on a horse. Lean up like you’re on the ground, and then come back down.” 

Phil tries, coming up with wobbly legs and then sitting back down. He tries a few more times, feet shaking in the stirrups, but slowly getting the hang of it. 

“Not bad at all, Phil! You’re doing great,” Dan encourages, watching as Phil trots around the ring, occasionally flopping around, but for the most part, doing just fine. 

Dan is mesmerised at the image before him. Sure, Phil’s form isn’t great, but he looks so handsome in his riding clothes, so much taller on the horse - Dan’s about to drool.

“Okay, make him stop.” 

Phil whips his head around to look at Dan. “What?”

“Tell Edward to stop.” Dan repeats. 

Phil’s eyes widen, but he tries anyway. “Stop, Edward.”

Dan has to laugh out loud now, doubling over and holding his sides. “Not like that! He can’t understand English.”

“That’s not my problem,” Phil says, letting out a small whimper when Edward huffs. 

“Pull on the reins a bit and relax your legs,” Dan instructs. 

Phil does what he’s told, pulling the horse into a walk. 

“Well done! Now turn him around and come towards me.” 

Phil raises an eyebrow, but he’s smiling, clearly pleased with himself. “How do I do that?” 

“Use the reins. Open the ha nd that’s facing towards me and pull, using your knee at the same time.” Dan says. Phil opens his hand, but he doesn’t really get what ‘using his knee’ means, so he’s still walking in circles. 

“Not working, Dan!” Phil says from one end of the riding pen. Dan sighs, and clicks softly. The horse’s ears perk up, and he begins walking towards Dan. 

Phil finally smiles wide as he nears Dan, sitting taller, evidently more confident. Dan winks at the horse, vowing to never tell Phil about this. 

“Pat his neck, Phil. He had to stand your incompetence for like, half an hour.” Dan jokes, stroking the horse’s neck. Phil sticks his tongue out but does as told. 

“Okay, now to dismount. Pull your feet out of the stirrups, then, holding onto the reins and the front of the saddle, swing one leg over and drop down.” 

Phil looks at him with a confused look on his face. “That sounds incredibly complicated.” 

“It really isn’t.” 

Phil follows the instructions as best as possible, but when he tries coming off the horse, his arm buckles and he lets out a gasp as he feels himself falling. 

Thankfully, Dan catches him. He wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, taking his weight and preventing him from ending on the ground. 

“Careful,” Dan murmurs as Phil straightens up, arms still around his waist. “Those trousers are expensive.” 

“Thanks,” Phil breathes out. It’s all too intimate, but neither of them seems to want to pull away. “I won’t fall next time. Promise.” 

Dan wants to stay here, like this, but they’ve both already caught their breath and his arm placement feels more unnatural every second. He pulls away abruptly, chuckling as he does so, taking the reins and walking the horse out. 

“Your limbs are way too floppy,” Dan says, earning himself an elbow in the ribs. 

“Shut up. You’re a terrible teacher,” Phil jokes, faking upset, arms crossed on his chest. 

“Am not! What was I supposed to do, demonstrate?” Dan asks once they reach the stable. He takes Edward’s bridle off, handing it to Phil. 

“Well, maybe you should have,” he replies, placing it on the rack as he watches Dan untack the horse, leaning against the wall. 

Dan notices, turning around with a smile. 

“What?” 

“Nothing! I’m just watching you.” Phil blushes at being caught. 

“Sure.” Dan takes the saddle off, walking over to Phil. “Do me a favour and hang this too, please?” 

“Okay.” Phil agrees. When Dan places the saddle in his arms, Phil groans at the weight, muttering “How heavy is this thing?” under his breath. 

Once Edward is in his stable and they’ve fed him one too many carrots, they walk back out. 

“How was your first riding experience?” Dan asks, hands in his pockets. “For real this time.” 

“It was...interesting,” Phil replies. “Both less and more scary than I thought it would be.” 

“That makes no sense.” Dan says, giggling. 

“It does! Plus, I had a great teacher, so I wasn’t worried.”

Phil’s compliment fills Dan with something between glee and pride, an emotion that swells in his chest and makes him blush all the way to the tips of his ears. 

They sing along to soft music on the way home, but Dan can’t bring himself to look at Phil. 

_ Fuck.  _

 

——————

 

**_+2.5 months_ **

 

The next one doesn’t come as a letter, but as a text message. 

Phil is watching him jump some low oxers, looking at Dan with amazement in his eyes. It’s distracting. 

Dan clears the last few jumps perfectly, flying over the crossed poles (if he leans up further or straightens his back more when he lands, well, nobody needs to know), patting the horse’s neck once he’s done, trotting up to Phil, who’s been cheering every time he clears a jump. 

“Not bad after a few months without riding, I’d say,” Dan says, positively grinning, immensely pleased with himself. 

“That’s amazing! I don’t know how you do it, but it’s beautiful,” Phil praises, endless wonder spilling into his voice. Dan blushes and looks away, hiding his face under his helmet. 

“It’s not such a big deal,” Dan says, breathy. He hopes Phil thinks it’s because of the riding. “You should see me when I train for the big competitions. That’s cooler.” 

“Anything you do is cool, honestly.” 

Dan almost twists an ankle dismounting. 

“Thanks!” Dan laughs, pretending his heart isn’t racing. “You’re pretty cool yourself, Mr ‘I-know-three-martial-arts’.”

“Shush, you.” Phil punches his arm lightly, and even though the physical contact makes Dan buzz from the inside out, he doesn’t show it, giggling as they begin walking back to the stable, horse in tow. 

“Hey Phil, where’s my phone?” Dan asks. 

“Here.” Phil pulls it out of his jeans, handing it over to Dan.

Dan opens it, silently checking his messages. Until. 

“Do you recognise this number?” Dan shows Phil the screen. 

Phil frowns, shaking his head ‘no’. 

“Odd,” Dan muses, slowing down until he stops. Phil picks up on the concern on his face. 

“What’s up?” Phil asks. 

“It’s just a series of numbers. There’s a second text, and a different number.” 

“Maybe they got the wrong number,” Phil suggests. 

But Dan knows better by now. “Phil, go start the car. As soon as I’m done, we’re going to the police.” 

Phil agrees immediately, rushing to the car as Dan all but jogs back to the stable. The horse whinnies, rearing its head at Dan, who can only apologise as he hastily untacks it. “I’m sorry, I’m trying.” 

“Do you really think it’s…?” Phil asks in the car, purposely not finishing the sentence. 

Dan bites his lip. “I’m not sure, but it’s strange and I don’t want to take any chances.” 

Phil glances at him with worry in his eyes every now and then, but Dan avoids making eye contact. Phil briefly squeezes Dan’s shoulder, overwhelming Dan even further; if his mind was racing before, it’s flying now. 

 

————

 

“They’re getting more and more impatient,” the chief of police says as they watch the IT professionals try to trace the IP address the text came from. “We’re going to find your horse.” 

Dan wants the relief that’s at the edge of his mind to flood him completely, but he can’t get carried away. 

“Dan,” Phil says, tugging on Dan’s sleeve. “I’ve figured it out.” 

Dan frowns. “What have you figured out?” 

“It’s a bank account. The series of numbers is a bank account.” 

Dan’s eyes widen as the realisation hits him like a ton of bricks. 

“Phil! Phil, you’re a genius!” He hugs Phil impulsively, wrapping his arms around him before almost immediately letting go, not even giving him the chance to hug back. They laugh awkwardly meanwhile Dan is mentally punching himself over and over. 

“I’ve got it!” A woman in the room shouts, pushing her chair away from her monitor to allow Dan and the chief of police to check it out. She grins at them. 

“It’s not very far from here. It’s in the countryside. There’s an abandoned warehouse in the vicinity, and the nearest houses are a couple of miles away,” she explains. 

“Makes sense,” the chief of police says. “They’d be able to operate in secret.” 

“What now, then?” Dan asks, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Do we act now?” 

The older man seems to be deep in thought for a few minutes, chin resting on his fingers. “Yes.” He decides, shocking Dan completely. “If they’ve already sent this much information, they must think you’re about to break.” 

Dan’s breathing slows, becoming deeper as he realises the implications of what this all means.  _ I’m getting Yugen back.  _

“When do we leave?” Phil asks. 

“Tonight,” the chief says. “I will send a car to pick both of you up.” 

 

——————

 

Dan’s pacing. He’s been pacing for the last hour, up and down the living room while Phil stares at him. 

“Relax, Dan.” 

Dan stops walking to glare at Phil before resuming his pacing. “I can’t.” 

“Sure you can!” Phil says, patting the empty spot beside him on the couch. “Come, sit down.” 

Dan stops, moving his lips from side to side as he thinks. 

“Please?” Phil pleads, but Dan has too much nervous energy he can’t contain, so he just ignores Phil - though he doesn’t miss Phil’s annoyed huff.  

By the time the car pulls up, Dan all but sprints to the door, mumbling a “good evening” to the police officer before getting in the car, seat belt already on by the time Phil gets in the car beside him. 

Dan’s knee bounces as he stares out the window, eyes unfocused. Dan knows he’s sweating, knows his heart is beating unnaturally fast, knows he’s on the verge of a breakdown. He can’t stop his train of thought either, each worse and more terrifying than the last:  _ What if she isn’t there? What if they’ve lied to him? What if they’ve hurt her? What if - _

A hand on his knee. He turns to see Phil looking at him softly, the thumb on his knee moving in a circling motion. 

“It’s going to be okay, Dan.” 

Little does Phil know, his touch makes everything better and worse. Dan wants Phil to touch him everywhere, all the time - but now the butterflies in his stomach have turned into rampaging dinosaurs, and that’s decidedly worse than before. 

When they pull up at a field, Dan pretty much jumps out of the car. It’s a dark autumn night, and the chilly air whips their hair across their faces and sweeps coloured leaves into the sky. It’s almost magical, and yet, Dan can’t think straight. His focus is all over the place, as he can hardly feel the temperature and the hair in his face doesn’t seem to bother him. 

Dan and Phil go say hi to the chief of police and some of the officers, who point them towards the warehouse. It’s in a wooded area at the bottom of the hill they’re currently on, but just as imposing from a distance. 

“You and Phil should go,” the chief says. Phil opens his mouth to retaliate, but the chief is faster. “We’ll be right behind you the whole time, of course, to make sure nothing happens.” 

Phil still doesn’t look convinced. 

“If they see an entire brigade, they might be forced to act impulsively, and who knows what might happen then? Judging by their activity so far, they’re just in it for the money - but we don’t want to take any risks.” 

Phil nods, still not entirely convinced. He turns to Dan. 

“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” 

Dan nods almost immediately, eyes still trained on the old building a few metres away. “I’ll go. I’ll do anything it takes.” 

The chief of police smiles reassuringly. “That’s great! You’re really brave - thought you should know.” 

Dan doesn’t reply, verbally or otherwise. He needs to get down this hill, and he needs to go now. 

The way down is as unnerving as it is unpleasant, a cocktail of fear and impatience that makes Dan want to vomit. Phil is behind him the entire time, hands itching close to his holster. 

When they get to the warehouse, Dan pulls Phil behind a corner. 

“Phil, if anything should happen to me -” he begins whispering. He can’t look Phil in the eyes, but if anyone asks, it’s the nerves. 

“Don’t speak like that!” Phil reprimands, also in a hushed whisper. “You’re going to jinx it.” 

“Phil, it’s important. If anything were to happen to me -” 

Phil cups Dan’s face with his hand, and there are so many emotions going through Dan’s brain now he almost doesn’t register how cold Phil’s hands feel against his skin. Phil tips Dan’s face up so they’re staring at each other, and it’s too much, Phil’s gaze is too much. His heart might just stop at this point. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Their breaths mingle, and at this proximity, even in the poor moonlight, Dan thinks he can discern every colour in Phil’s rainbow eyes. Dan swears he can feel Phil’s heartbeat with the way their chests are pressed together, Phil’s back against the steel wall. 

Dan could lean up right now, press their lips together, close the gap between them and take a dive into whatever he feels for the man before him. Instead, he opts for wrapping his arms around Phil’s neck and closing the gap in a much less intimate way. 

“You’ll be okay, I promise.” Phil whispers, his lips on Dan’s ear sending shivers unrelated to the cold down his spine. 

Dan knows it’s a promise he can’t keep, but he tries to imagine it’s possible. He also knows Phil means it whole-heartedly, and that’s enough. 

The door of the warehouse is open slightly ajar, but there’s no light coming from the inside. The rusty hinges creak when Dan pulls the door open, making him cringe at the breach of silence. 

“Is there anyone here?” Dan asks as he walks in, eyes slowly getting used to the space almost devoid of light. 

But then he sees her. 

She’s standing in the middle of the empty building, and as soon as she smells him, she all but gallops towards him, whinnying and bellowing as she does so, almost rearing when she reaches him. 

A sense of relief that Dan’s never felt floods him completely, leaving him almost completely at ease. He calms Yugen down, finally wrapping his arms around her neck and crying into her hair. She’s thinner than usual, and her ribs protrude under her skin. But she’s alive.  _ She’s alive,  _ Dan reminds himself as he sobs of happiness and relief and shock and worry as all the emotions he’d previously repressed come flooding back. 

“How emotional,” a female voice drawls from somewhere in the warehouse. 

Dan lifts his head wiping his tears. Yugen seems to be getting excited again, ears pressed flat to her neck as she sniffs the air. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan watches Phil slide in, going to hide in the shadows. 

“What do you want?” Dan asks back, voice echoing off the walls. 

“What do you think?” The voice moves closer, but in the darkness, it’s impossible to tell where exactly it’s coming from. “Money, dear.” 

Dan’s chest begins rising and falling quickly as panic begins to flood his system. However, he tries keeping his voice level. “I already paid.” 

“But you see, there’s additional fees.” She walks out then, into the one part of the warehouse where silver moonlight spills in through a small window. She’s young, maybe mid-twenties, and she doesn’t look particularly muscular. She does, however, have a gun in her right hand. “We had to bring your horse here, and feed it...and all that has a price.” 

Dan tries to keep the calm demeanor. “Bullshit.” 

He turns around to walk away, but jumps immediately as a bullet whizzes past his head and creates a hole in the wall. Okay then. 

“Put your hands where I can see them!” Phil yells then, both hands on his gun as he walks out from his hiding spot. The woman laughs at the site of him, which immediately makes Dan suspicious - if two men challenged you, even if one was unarmed, would you laugh?  _ She probably has back-up in here.  _

Dan is now more concerned for Phil’s safety than his own as he steps in front of Dan and Yugen. 

“How cute,” the woman says. 

“Shut up.” Phil answers, voice as stern as Dan’s ever heard it. 

“Feisty,” she says. “I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen - horse boy is going to make a transference for another hundred thousand pounds right now, and then you get to walk away. If not? Well, I kill all of you. Horse included. Actually - horse first.” 

“I’m going to hand you in to the police, and then you’re going to rot in jail. You’re first,” Phil replies. Dan wants to intervene somehow, but his life is already in jeopardy. 

She begins stepping closer towards them, and as she does, Dan can hear more footsteps moving within the building. Yugen is getting more restless by the minute, kicking at the air and whinnying. 

“You better pull your phone out, horse boy.” 

Dan sees a knife gleam in the distance. Phil steps back at the same pace of her walking, pointing his gun in all directions. “In three, two -” 

_ “Freeze!”  _ The door bursts open, and an entire police squadron bursts through the door. Yugen rears, finally nervous enough that she breaks, kicking at the metal wall of the warehouse. Phil moves out of the way as the police yell and shots are fired. 

“Dan, out, now!” Phil shouts, and Dan bolts, Yugen running out before him. 

They run out and up the hill all the way, the commotion in the warehouse getting fainter as they get farther away. 

“We have her, Phil,” Dan pants once they reach the top. He pulls Yugen into another embrace, hugging her by the neck, patting her there and scratching the top of her head. “She’s back, and it’s thanks to you.” 

Phil blushes. “It really isn’t.” 

Dan smiles at him wide. “Let me thank you for this.” 

“Okay.” Phil’s tongue sticks out between his teeth when he smiles. Dan’s heart contracts in his chest. “You’re welcome.” 

Dan wants to say something snarky, or witty, but he can’t say anything now that the adrenaline’s worn off and he isn’t solely motivated by fear. He falls to his knees and just  _ breaks,  _ all of the sudden sobbing into his hands. 

“Dan, what’s wrong?” Phil asks, kneeling beside him. Yugen also seems worried, huffing as she nudges her owner with her nose. 

“Nothing,” Dan chokes out. “It’s all just been so  _ much -”  _

Phil hugs Dan tightly then, wrapping his arms around him as Dan breaks down into his chest. He feels Phil run his fingers through his hair, then press a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s okay, Dan. It’s all over now.” 

 

—————-

 

“It’s going to be really quiet without you.” Dan says as he watches Phil come down the stairs with the last of his luggage. 

“All the better! You’ll be more peaceful. You need peace right now.” Phil replies, but there’s a slight tinge of sadness that doesn’t go unnoticed by Dan. 

Phil stands in front of him now, for what is probably the last time, and Dan can’t handle it, if the way his stomach flips is anything to go by. 

“I got you something,” Dan says, putting his hands out from behind his back. “a farewell gift, of sorts.” 

Phil smiles and blushes, mumbling, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s - It’s nothing.” 

Phil carefully unwraps the small box. Inside lies a pair of white riding gloves, carefully wrapped in silk, with a handwritten note underneath. 

 

_ ‘I wouldn’t be here without you, and neither would my horse. Come visit sometime - my life is a hard thing to repay, but I’ll try.' _

_ \-- Dan _

 

“You complained about your hands burning last time, so…” Dan trails off, blushing fiercely. 

“I love it! I promise I’ll visit.” Phil closes the box and puts it away in his bag. 

He then drops all his things, and a sudden sadness fills their eyes. The silence becomes too heavy, the inevitable reality hitting them both like a load of bricks. 

“This is it, huh?” Phil says, opening his arms. 

Dan nods, walking into Phil’s embrace. He closes his eyes, tries to keep the scent of shaving cream and cotton in his brain as long as possible, tries branding the feeling of Phil’s strong arms around him into his skin. 

When they begin to pull away, neither of them is ready to let go. 

“I’m going to miss you.” Dan says, and he hopes his honesty bleeds through his eyes and the way his body shudders when Phil picks up his bags.

“I’m going to miss you too.” Phil replies, and if Dan picks up on the way his hand lingers on the doorknob, Dan doesn’t say. “Promise you’ll call.” 

“Only if you promise you’ll come round the stables.” Dan laughs, but it’s bittersweet, and the happiness dies in his mouth. 

“Pinkie promise.” 

They laugh, but it’s not really happy and the fact that they both know it makes it so much worse. 

“Well - goodbye.” Dan smiles, hating himself for being the first to say it. “And thank you.” 

“Goodbye, Dan. Thank  _ you _ so much for everything.” Phil says, smiling back with so much sincerity in his eyes it makes Dan’s insides knot up. 

Dan closes the door, and immediately feels like dying. There’s a part of his soul that got ripped from him as soon as he closed that door, and he can feel the pain twisting up inside him and taking hold of his heart. 

He can’t let this be. He can’t let Phil leave without letting him know. 

“Phil, wait!” He shouts as he opens the door and runs down the stairs. The cab hasn’t arrived yet, thank God. 

Phil doesn’t have time to reply before Dan’s pulled him down by his shirt and pressed their lips together. It’s brief, it only lasts a few seconds, but Dan’s already on cloud 9. 

He pulls away slowly, reading the emotion on Phil’s face. It’s a mixture of surprise and something else he can’t really tell. He immediately begins regretting everything, the relief he just felt being quickly replaced by fear of rejection. 

“I’m so sorry,” he begins saying as he steps away slowly. “I didn’t want - I didn’t know -”

Phil then wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, pulling him closer and kissing him back properly, lips parting in an open-mouthed kiss. Dan puts his arms around Phil’s neck, feeling the butterflies in his stomach fly away. If Phil touching him felt electric, Phil kissing him makes him feel like a goddamn live wire. 

When they pull away, they press their foreheads together, still holding each other, giggling. 

“You should have said that before I left.” Phil laughs, and Dan laughs along with him, finally feeling  _ truly  _ happy. 

Everything is back in place. 

  
  
  


 

__

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> _Phil is definitely cheering at his next competition. Dan laughs when Phil falls off Edward for the fifth time that lesson._
> 
>  
> 
> wow, this has been a wild ride!! (no pun intended - well, maybe a little). It's my first time writing for the PBB, and it was a load of fun! Can't wait to do it again next year. 
> 
> I have to give a massive thanks to my beta (@insectbah on Tumblr, go check them out), as they've been so patient with me, honestly if I were you I would have given up on me by now. You've taught me so many things, and I am eternally grateful. Thank you again, this journey wouldn't have been the same without you. 
> 
> Shoutout to my artist (@dandelionisonfire on Tumblr), because even though they couldn't finish the art piece, I know they worked really hard.


End file.
